a whisper on the wind
by hashire
Summary: They met in cliche circumstances one summer, in a place where the wind was alive; it attempted to bring them together, but they have only moved farther apart. Kanda/Lenalee, AU.
1. one

Standard disclaimers apply here.

When I write AUs they generally become bigger/longer/more extensive than I originally intended. This was going to be a long one-shot but then it decided that it wanted to be split up. Influenced a lot by The Great Gatsby and The Country of the Pointed Firs, though the latter more than the former (meaning this isn't so much an intricate story as it is a bunch of connected sketches). I've wanted to write something with flowers for awhile, and here it finally is. Their meanings will come in later so I won't say what they are now. I know they don't all bloom at the same time, but please suspend disbelief. This is pre-internet, also. It's not set too long ago, just before they started connecting those tubes. Feedback would be lovely~.

* * *

They met in cliché circumstances: she played the part of a "spoiled rich girl" who had a comfortable life and would have one for years to come; he was the penniless gardener they'd hired to keep up the lawn around their summer house. He slept in a little shack behind it; it was small but comfortable.

Lenalee objected to being called a "spoiled rich girl", however, because she didn't think she was. Sure, her family had money and had had it for a long time, but that didn't mean she was spoiled.

She didn't go to the summer house right away that year. She spent time with her friends at home instead, considering them more important than the lavish building on the lake. When she finally arrived, she noticed that the lawn and garden looked amazing, and said as much as she stepped inside.

"Oh, go thank the gardener instead, dear," her mother told her.

"You hired a gardener?" she asked, almost in disbelief. Normally she and her brother would take care of the flowers and grass; they enjoyed doing it together, though the work was sometimes hard. Nevertheless, this year he wasn't there and she'd arrived late.

"Yes, darling," her mother responded; she always called her different terms of endearment when they spoke. She liked the variety, she'd explained when Lenalee had inquired once. "You weren't here and we couldn't have an overgrown yard and garden, after all."

To that Lenalee had nothing to say. They were sitting just inside the house, facing out toward the other large summer-occupied homes, where the air conditioning effectively cooled them. It was almost unbearably hot outside.

"Love, why not fetch the gardener some water? A pitcher filled with ice and a glass will do." Though she acted lofty around others, Lenalee knew her mother had more caring in her than she showed.

"All right," she said with a smile. She stood and smoothed down her short summer frock; it was too humid for anything else. "Oh!" she burst out as if surprised; "What's his name?"

"I don't know, sweetheart," her mother returned with a smile. "Ask him."

Her behavior threw Lenalee off a little. It seemed that the woman had expectations for them, but she couldn't figure out why. She imagined that the gardener would be a man much older than herself: his posture stooping from the years of bending over flowerbeds, his skin creased and tan from being in the sun for so long, the flesh of his hands thick from the many thorns and bristles. She couldn't see why her mother would be pushing her toward someone like that.

After she filled a pitcher with ice and turned on the tap until it ran as cold as it would, she grabbed a glass and set the heavy pitcher of ice water on the tray with it, ignoring the cook's offers to take it for her. She did allow the large and pleasant woman to open and hold the door because her hands were full, and she stepped out into the balmy mid-afternoon.

A hot, gentle breeze passed by, making her dress dance with it for a moment. She glanced around and found him kneeling near a red rose bush; the flowers had all fully bloomed and held their petals out proudly.

As she walked toward him, she was struck by how he _didn't_ fit the image in her head. He was leaning over but it certainly didn't look like he'd carry that with him when he stood: his back was straight and she thought he would stand tall as though there was a rod in his spine. His skin was pale with a tinge of red – she'd have to offer him some sunscreen if he was getting sunburned. And he was most definitely not a good amount older than she was; in fact, if one can tell by someone's posture and their general person from the back, she judged that he was near her age.

Lenalee stepped lightly on the perfectly trimmed grass, so he did not hear her as she approached. When she cleared her throat, however, he didn't jump or seem startled. He simply turned with an expression of complete irritation that disappeared as they made eye contact.

Another gust of wind arrived and left after whispering to them, telling them each a secret that they could not understand at that moment. The mysterious, heated wind wanted them to figure out what it knew. Because it, after all, had no form and therefore could move anywhere it wanted throughout time.

The ice, rapidly melting, shifted in the pitcher as it grew smaller and smaller. The two were pulled out of their mutual reverie as it bumped against itself in the water, and Lenalee laughed a little. It didn't feel awkward, though, and she smiled.

"Mother thought you might be thirsty, so I brought you some water." She left out the part where her mother suggested it; anyway, it wasn't an untrue statement. She brought the tray out for him. He made a noise of what she decided was appreciation, and walked closer.

Kneeling on the ground, she tipped the pitcher sideways so the ice flowed more freely into the glass rather than catching on its lip. She offered it to him and he reached for it. He didn't grab it out of her hand, though: he slipped his fingers around the cool glass and held it for a moment with her, their fingertips brushing each other, before gently pulling it away. His touch, she thought distantly, was not rough at all.

As he drank the water, she took in the garden. The flowers that she and her brother had planted there last fall before leaving were thriving; they'd decided to dig up the old flowers, which were very, very old indeed, and plant all new ones. Lenalee would be going away to college this year and coming to the new garden before she left would be refreshing, they thought. Not only that, he was moving away, having gotten married there that summer, and it was one last thing for them to do together.

The carnations – the darkest red they could find, along with blossoms of pure white – stretched up from the ground, straining toward the sun. Next to them, red chrysanthemums – the white carnations sat between the two red blossoms like a buffer, as though they needed to be there to separate them – burst out like they were trying their best to grab the attention away from their neighbors, not knowing they needn't. The red tulips spread their petals almost arrogantly, attempting to draw the most eyes to them.

Off to their left, the honeysuckle climbed up the side of the house, vainly reaching out for the porch's railing, only a few inches away from where it ended. Another whisper of wind brought the scent of lilacs from the bush somewhere behind them. Lenalee noticed some new flowers in the shade that she and her brother hadn't planted. They were familiar; she racked her brain but couldn't come up with their name.

She turned back to the gardener, who indeed appeared closer to her age than she expected, and found he was studying her. She faintly thought of how warm it was: it felt like some of the heat had settled intimately on her cheeks. Instead of commenting on that or his rather intent stare, she asked, "What are those flowers over there? I don't think we planted them last fall."

His eyes flicked over to the blooms before returning to her face. "Forget-me-nots. Your mother asked me to plant them."

"Oh," she murmured, taking them in. "It looks wonderful," she commented while scanning the garden, intensely aware of his continued gaze. "I wasn't sure everything would grow when we planted it. He said that it should, but I still wasn't sure." Realizing she was rambling a bit, Lenalee stopped.

The gentle breeze picked up again, urging them, but they didn't heed it. She stood, brushing off her knees. "I'll come back in awhile to refill the pitcher," she promised, turning. The lilacs had never looked so lovely as they did in that moment. She paused and faced him once more. "By the way, what's your name? Mother said she couldn't remember." An odd expression passed across his face, but she couldn't place it.

"Kanda," was all he offered, returning to what he had been doing before.

"I'm Lenalee," she returned warmly, the tone attached to her words somehow surpassing the heat that blanketed them. She left, humming and hopping over invisible obstacles every few steps.

As she got back in, her mother asked, "Did Kanda tell you about the forget-me-nots?"

Lenalee stopped, considering the woman. "I thought you said you didn't know his name."

"Did I? It must be this heat!" She waved a hand when her daughter tried to say that they had been inside, shrouded by the air conditioning. "Invite him to lunch tomorrow when you get him more water."

"How did you –"

"Dear, how could you _not_ get him more water in this heat?" There was a smile on her mother's face; a gentle, knowing smile. She wondered if they'd been spied upon, just now.

Still, Lenalee had no response; it seemed her mother knew much more than she ever let on or chose to divulge.

As she almost tiptoed away – for Lenalee always had a light step, no matter where she walked – she went over their meeting in her head. She realized, quite belatedly, that when she was speaking to Kanda, she hadn't told him that she and her _brother_ had planted those flowers. All she'd said was _we_ and _he_.

It seemed important, suddenly, to not let him to get the wrong idea about that. Even so, she couldn't simply race outside and blurt out, "I meant my brother and me! We planted the flowers, not anyone else!" There was no delicate way of approaching it, so she didn't.

She went to refill the pitcher a few hours later, but he wasn't around. She wondered if he wouldn't be there when she went to fetch it that evening; she could knock on his door and ask him in for lunch there, but she wasn't sure she wanted to do it like that.

Kanda was there when Lenalee left the house in the slightly cooler evening. He was standing like he'd been waiting for her, but she dismissed the thought. That seemed too unlikely.

"Mother wanted me to ask you in to lunch tomorrow." For some reason, she couldn't invite him in on her own; she was not physically there but her mother's figure stood behind them, an unseen wraith which they were both aware of.

"When?"

When? She almost repeated his question but instead said, "Around noon, I suppose. I've only arrived today so I don't know when they usually have lunch." Her parents never did eat at the same time, but she didn't mention that.

"Hm." The sun had descended and they stood in the shadow of the house now. The empty pitcher had already been passed between them, along with the glass. She stooped to pick up the tray, which still sat on the ground.

"All right." She smiled, and he was staring at her again. No, he wasn't simply looking; it was definitely a stare. "I'll see you then."

As she walked back toward the house, barefoot again, she paused; somehow she seemed to know that he had been trying to say something. However, she didn't glance back and he didn't speak. The breeze agitated their hair and her dress, irritated with them.

Lenalee ignored it and walked inside. Kanda watched her and went to his little home.

The wind nearly howled that night.


	2. two

Standard disclaimers apply here.

Posting this now because I feel like it, and also because I seriously needed a break from academic writing. First draft of my essay is done, and it's bad. Wooo. Unimportant. Anyway, I finished this before I posted the first part. The third is done as well and the fourth is almost finished, but jsyk, I only have some idea of what I'm going to do with this. Like I said, it sort of has no plot (there really isn't one in the book that inspired this), but hopefully it'll come to an ending point. Sometime. Oh, and Lan means orchid in Chinese (that's what all the sites said, just "Chinese"). Yeah. Flowers. Symbolism. Hur. Did you know that it's incredibly difficult to find a synonym of "flower" that works in the same sense? (/wrote an essay a week and a half ago about how flowers were used in two short pieces) Thanks to my wonderful reviewers~.

* * *

"So, where are you from, Kanda?" her father asked him jovially. They'd just sat down to eat; it was nearly one.

He said the name of a town nearby.

"Why are you working as a gardener?" her mother inquired pleasantly.

"My mother kicked me out this spring." He didn't seem to want to say it but the words found their way out of his mouth anyway.

"Oh, how awful!" Lenalee's mother apparently couldn't even fathom doing such a thing. Lenalee knew she wouldn't, either.

He muttered something about "glad to be out," but didn't elaborate.

"Do you have anywhere to stay after this summer?" her mother wanted to know. Reluctantly he shook his head. "Well! Then you must come live with us." Her three dining companions stared at her. "What? We have plenty of space."

"But Lan, he –" her husband attempted to reason with her; it wasn't that he didn't want Kanda staying with them. The fact of the matter was they hardly knew him.

"I've made up my mind." Clearly, she would hear no more arguments from any party, including the one that was being all but forced to live with them. "Don't worry about rent or anything, dearie; we don't need it."

Lenalee shifted uncomfortably, and Kanda followed suit. Her mother wasn't showing off; she simply seemed unaware that it wasn't perhaps the right thing to say.

"Lenalee," her father addressed her and she jumped at the sound of her name. She and Kanda had suddenly made eye contact, and neither seemed to be able to look away. That was, until her father spoke to her. "You're unusually quiet. Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, um, I have a bit of...a headache," she gave as an excuse, considering the food on her plate.

"Would you like to go lie down?" her mother asked, concerned.

"No, I'm fine." The matter was closed after that, and lunch continued with more idle chatter.

Afterward, however, Lenalee did have a headache; her father's boisterous laugh was loud in her ear and a dull pain developed slowly. She went up to her room and ended up falling asleep, curled on her side. Kanda was in her dream: they were in the garden, studying the blossoms. He produced a bouquet of all of the flowers in the garden without picking any of them and gave it to her. She stared at him, not entirely understanding. She noticed something in her peripheral vision and pulled a small lilac branch out from behind her ear.

She woke up after that, completely bewildered. Getting up, she decisively went into their library. After searching high and low, she couldn't find that old book she'd come across years and years ago; the one about "the language of flowers." She remembered poring over it all summer years ago, when she was fourteen. She racked her brain, trying to remember anything from it, but nothing came back.

Before she could think more her parents decided that they should go into town for ice cream; Kanda was invited but he declined. Lenalee was disappointed, and it showed on her face. They'd all gone into the backyard before leaving; when he'd seen the expression on her face he paused, as though reconsidering, but turned back to the garden.

They ended up running into some old friends of her parents, however, and went out to an early dinner instead.

"Lenalee, you must meet our son; he'd be _perfect_ for you." She jumped for the second time that day. Her mother's friend hadn't addressed her prior to that comment.

"Oh?" she responded, distracted.

"_Yes_," the woman gushed, gazing at her fondly, as though she were her daughter. "I'm sure he'd love you; he'll be here in a few days. You _must_ meet him," she repeated. Clearly, not only was she looking at Lenalee like she was her daughter, she had designs on making her just that – through marriage to her son, of course.

"We'll await your call!" her mother said merrily as they parted, but didn't seem as enthused when they were farther away. "I must remember to take the phone off the hook the day after tomorrow."

"Mother?" Lenalee's tone wasn't shocked or scandalized or anything that might be a proper reaction to her mother saying that she was going to avoid a call from an old friend.

"Yes, darling?"

"Never mind." She didn't really want to meet this son anyway; she expected that he'd be nice enough, but she wasn't about to be married to someone she hardly knew – because, indeed, she was certain that after they met his mother would start planning the wedding.

It was dark when they returned, and so was the little house behind theirs. Lenalee, before going up the stairs, saw her mother studying it pensively. She started to speak but Lan dismissed her words with a wave of her hand and inquired if she was going to bed.

Instead of a bouquet, in her dream Lenalee received a thornless rose. She studied it for a long time, still not knowing its hidden meaning. She glanced back up at Kanda and he seemed impatient. Returning her gaze to her hand, she found that she was now holding a red tulip. She woke up right before he took it from her.

Donning a dark pink sundress, Lenalee descended the stairs to find her parents getting ready to go somewhere.

"Where are you going?" she asked. It wasn't so hot that day, and the windows were open. The wind came rushing in and tugged at her dress, but she ignored it.

"Into town," her father answered. "We won't be long." Obviously they had no intentions of bringing her with them, so Lenalee said goodbye and went to eat breakfast alone (the cook arrived at eleven thirty and it was just short of ten).

She looked outside after she was finished, and thought she might bring Kanda some water, but, after a moment's observation, she found that he already had it. Plenty, in fact. She could have probably come up with some other reason to go out had she not had something else on her mind.

Lenalee poked through her parents' room, sadly searched in her brother's, dug through hers, pawed through the guest rooms, and finally decided that the book must not be there anymore. Then she remembered the attic.

Ascending the stairs quickly, she'd forgotten how many boxes they'd brought up there over the years. She set her sights on the newer-looking ones, but found that they were too heavy. Her parents told her that they wouldn't be too long, but she didn't know if they'd be back soon or not. They could be gone for hours. She didn't want to sit up in the hot, stuffy, dark, dusty old attic and go through the things up there.

Lenalee went downstairs and out the front door where Kanda was then. "Good morning," she greeted him, and the wind blew her hair against her face, tickling her cheeks. "This is a bit of an odd request" – well, not entirely, but she prefaced it with that anyway – "but I need to get some boxes down from the attic and they're too heavy for me to carry."

He straightened up, no slouch in his posture. She wondered how long he'd been a gardener, but then stopped because he'd spoken and she hadn't caught his words.

"I'm sorry?"

"_All right_," he repeated, a little irritated for having to do so.

"Oh. Oh! Come inside; the attic isn't straight up the stairs, though. Here, I'll show you." She climbed the stairs once more, turning on the second floor landing and finding Kanda looking at something on his left. "Haven't you been shown around?"

"No." Lenalee frowned but quickly dropped it lest he think she was directing it at him. She assumed her mother would have done that, but it didn't really matter.

Idly she wondered if her mother hadn't taken him around the house because she'd wanted Lenalee to do it; after all, she'd acted as though she couldn't remember his name but clearly did. She must have wanted her daughter to ask. Still, the idea that she'd neglected to give him a tour for that reason was pulled from her mind quickly; the idea was caught and floated away on the warm summer wind.

Thus she brought him around the house, ignoring the more lavish rooms and focusing on the simpler ones she liked better. They made it up to the attic after a half hour; she ascended the semi-hidden staircase first.

Kanda glanced over at her when he entered the room, and she stated, "I'd just like those two boxes there taken down into the guest room." The guest room: where the staircase could be found, sitting behind a door easily mistaken for that of a closet.

After he set the second on the floor, he inquired if that was it. She nodded, and he started out.

Vaguely, she felt the urge to pull him back and kiss him. It didn't seem right. He'd dragged down two boxes from the attic of all places and was already somewhat sweaty from the work that day, but that didn't put her off at all. There was also the fact that she'd known him for not even three days yet.

Lenalee became distracted when she gazed into one of the boxes. She made a noise of surprise and Kanda stopped and turned. "My brother and I made this when I was in third grade." She pulled out a little booklet that detailed everything they'd done that summer. She'd meant to take it back with her, but had forgotten it. She still remembered how upset she'd been when she'd realized she didn't have it.

She added in, almost as an afterthought (but actually quite deliberately), "He and I planted those flowers last fall. We wanted to make a big change there because he got married last July and I'm going to college in a few months. It was something we did together..." She trailed off, suddenly on the verge of tears.

"Hm." It was the same response she'd received the night before last, when she'd told him that she didn't know when lunch was. It didn't occur to her that he could have simply been indicating that he was listening. She felt annoyed because she assumed he didn't really care; that bothered her for some reason.

"All right," she said breezily, "you can go back to work now." She effectively dismissed him, but when she looked up she saw the expression on his face and regretted it. For a moment, he _did_ seem nearly interested, but her words seemed to transfer her irritation to him and he left without another word.

With a sigh she settled into picking apart one of the boxes. It was full of old books and things she'd made at the summer house when she was younger, but no book on flowers. The second box was the same, only everything in it was a little older.

About to give up, she pulled one last thing out and peered into the almost empty box. It was a bit roughed up and more than a little dirty, but there it was, sitting at the bottom of that container: Language and Sentiment of Flowers.

Lenalee ran downstairs with the book and grabbed two rags; she wet one and wrung it out well. After wiping it clean and drying it with the other rag, she took it upstairs to her room, ignoring for now the small mess she'd left in the guest room. Her parents wouldn't notice it right away, at least.

As she flipped through the book, her heart beat faster. How could she and her brother have picked out those flowers? It didn't make sense. And how could she, in her dreams, know about them? She'd gone through it before but that was a long, long time ago. Perhaps her subconscious remembered it well while she had forgotten about it.

Still, that didn't make up for the fact that all of the flowers they'd gotten meant –

Her parents arrived home then, calling her down for lunch. Lenalee shut the book and realized her hands and dress were dirty. After washing and changing she went downstairs; when her parents asked what she'd been doing while they were gone, she responded, "Not too much."


	3. three

Standard disclaimers apply here.

I redid this entire part because I wasn't satisfied with the original. I've been frustrated with this in general and I've had to stop myself from deleting it more than once. Stressed from long essay and upcoming final, I guess. Anyway, Feng means more than one thing (maple, Phoenix) but in this case it's supposed to be "wind" (which is it also means). The reason why should be obvious, hurhur. Leland (lee-lund) means "fallow land." Maybe not so obvious. Mallory means "unfortunate," lol. I'll skip ahead at some point but right now the foundations still need to be laid, so to speak. I'll reveal what things mean soon, too, but not yet. Thanks for the lovely reviews~.

* * *

They sat down to eat and the cook placed the plates in front of them; Lenalee was pensive and didn't touch her food right away.

"What's wrong, love?" Her mother asked, looking at her daughter as she raised her fork to her lips.

She'd been lost in her own thoughts until then, but Lenalee didn't start like the previous day. She simply focused on her mother and inquired, "Why did you ask Kanda to plant those flowers?"

"The forget-me-nots?" Lenalee, instead of snapping "what else?" as she felt like doing, waited for Lan to reply. "I just like them, that's all. Feng, would you be a darling and hand me that book on the counter?"

The subject was closed, it seemed. Lenalee brooded while she ate her lunch, feeling that there was something else behind her mother's forget-me-nots. She wasn't sure why it was bugging her so much; maybe because...no, she wouldn't do that. Her mother wouldn't do _that_.

That night she stepped delicately on the grass, walking out to the dock. Her bare feet padded along it, and the moonlight bounced off the water. The wind, which seemed to have fallen asleep until then, picked up and snapped her dress about her. She cried out, surprised, and held onto her dress so it wouldn't fly up.

It died down after she'd been sufficiently ruffled, assuming that it made its point; it curled calmly around Lenalee afterward. She shivered because it was cold, so it stopped embracing her and danced away.

Footsteps roused her from a lull where she almost dozed off. She knew it was Kanda; her father's steps were heavier and longer, and her mother's shorter and softer. He came to stand next to her, and they stared out at the water. A light across the lake illuminated, but then darkened.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said, having felt bad about it. She didn't know how to explain it, so she left it at that.

"Hm." Glancing over at him, she studied his profile. After an instant's thought where she'd turned back to the lake, she decided that he simply must respond to things like that. Her irritation from before was quite unwarranted, then. She sighed; she couldn't have known that, though.

Quiet descended until the wind returned, bringing music with it: a soft tune without lyrics. Lenalee almost fell asleep again. She figured it was best to go in and go to bed.

She yawned and laughed a little when Kanda echoed it. "I'm going to go in now," she informed him. "Good night." She was about to leave their comfortable silence when he grabbed her wrist.

The dark sky was a perfect backdrop as he stood there, half bathed in the moonlight; the other half was, of course, left in the shadows of the night. They held each other's gaze for much longer than the preceding day's lunch; longer than the day when they'd first laid eyes on one another. He let go of her after a few extended moments, watching the water once more.

Something passed between them, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was.

They exchanged carnations that night in her dream; she gave him the white and he handed her the red. She woke up and scanned the book. She let out her breath after she realized she'd been holding it. This still didn't make sense. She didn't fall asleep after that. A breeze crept into her room, flipping the book's pages; she forgot to close it and put it away, leaving it open on her bed that day.

A call came in while she sat on the couch in the living room; her mother was reading, and she was nearly asleep. Lan answered the phone; her decision to take it off the hook had completely slipped her mind.

"Hello? Oh! Yes, of course! How lovely. We'll have to have lunch sometime. Today? I'm not sure about that; it seems a bit soon. All right, all right. We'll come over and have lunch. I'll see you, darling." When her mother hung up the phone, she didn't look entirely pleased.

"Who was that?" Lenalee inquired, knowing the answer but hoping she was wrong.

"Mallory," she told her; her friend from the other day. "Her son is here. We're having lunch with them at one thirty."

"Oh."

"Yes. Hurry up and get ready."

"It's not even eleven," she pointed out, feeling tired and not wanting to go at all.

"I know, but she wants us to be there at noon and it always takes you awhile to get ready." Her brown eyes were bright then, and Lenalee knew her mother was teasing her.

"The pot calling the kettle black," she called over her shoulder with a smile.

"I never said I didn't take as long, dear!" There was amusement in her voice.

A half hour later they left, figuring they should just go. They called goodbye to Feng and also to Kanda, who was in the front yard. He raised his head and then slowly a hand, and Lenalee beamed. He couldn't seem to turn away for a moment, but he finally did.

The house they arrived at was larger and more lavish than theirs. Lenalee didn't like it. Mallory ran out the door, embracing her mother.

"Oh, Lan, it's good to see you!"

"We saw each other a few days ago, darling."

"I know, but it's still good to see you!" Her friend apparently liked to repeat herself.

Following her was a short, thin, pale young man with light brown hair; his expression was pained. She eyed him almost warily.

"Oh! This is my little love – my husband is my big love, hahaha – Leland. This is who I wanted you to meet, Lenalee." His face didn't move. He put his arm across his stomach, clutching it like it hurt, but then bowed formally. His hair didn't move as he did this, and she wondered how much gel he'd put in it.

"I-It's nice to meet you." She stumbled over her words as she watched this. She wasn't sure what to make of it but she was trying not to laugh at how ridiculous it was. He and his mother took it to mean she was taken with him and couldn't speak properly because of that.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he responded, reaching out. It took her a moment to realize he wanted her hand. She hesitantly gave it to him, and he laid a wet kiss on it. She fought the urge to scrub it on her dress. Not only would it be rude, what about her clothes? She suppressed a shudder.

Lunch didn't go any better either. He was quite pompous and his mother kept gushing about what he'd been doing back home. Lan rolled her eyes at Lenalee once when she knew the two were too wrapped up in themselves to notice, and her daughter glanced away to hold in her laughter.

When Leland asked her to come out on his boat with him, she declined. Both he and his mother were devastated. She wondered, had she actually been interested in him, if she would have been dating both him and his mother, based on her reaction. Mallory begged her to reconsider (yes, she would have been a very active participant in their relationship, if there ever would be one - and there wouldn't); she sighed and agreed. They both looked so pitiful that she couldn't say no.

They'd go out (the two giggled at those words and Lan and Lenalee rolled their eyes at once; mother and son didn't notice) on it the next day in the mid-afternoon. Lenalee wondered if she could find something to do then.

Lan, as they got into the car, said, "Well! Shall we go into town tomorrow afternoon?"

She studied her mother for a moment. "Yes, I think we should."

When they got to a stoplight, she turned to her daughter. Her eyes had that familiar glimmer in them. "Would you like to invite Kanda?"

Lenalee considered this. He'd declined to come with them before, but maybe he didn't like ice cream? That seemed a little silly, though; who didn't like that? She couldn't decide what his reason might have been. "What would we all do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Leave around noon and have lunch, maybe see a movie. Something like that."

"Are you –"

They pulled into the driveway before she could finish, and Lan was out of the car immediately. She started to call out to Feng before she stepped into the house; Lenalee was quite sure her mother knew what she had been about to ask and was dodging the question. She dropped it with a sigh as her mother hustled out, this time accompanied with her father; they were gone before she even opened the front door.

That night she floated out to the dock again. Steps announced his presence, but they were drowned out by the sound of a motor. She frowned. It was nearly ten p.m. Who would be out this late making so much noise?

As Kanda came to stand behind her, Lenalee suppressed a groan. Coming closer and closer to their dock was none other than Leland. He waved and stopped in front of them.

"Good evening, Lenalee. What a surprise to see you here." He said this as though he hadn't seen her from out on the water and steered his boat toward her; like they'd bumped into each other on the street.

"Hello, Leland," she greeted, sounding and feeling tired. He didn't pick up on it.

"Would you like to go for a late night ride?" He was wearing a ridiculous velour jacket and a boating hat that looked too big for his head. He wasn't wearing a lifejacket, but upon closer inspection it appeared that he'd hurriedly took it off and tossed it away. It was still half over the back of his seat. 'Probably thought it would ruin his image,' she speculated sardonically.

"I don't know, I'm very –"

"Pleeeeeeeeeease? I know we have a date for tomorrow but I wanted to show it to you now." He didn't notice her face at the word "date."

Lenalee sighed and glanced over at Kanda, who had been watching the exchange with an unreadable expression. Before she could say anything, Leland spoke once more.

"He can't come along." A harsh gust of wind came and blew his cap off. It flew into the water and he let out a cry of anguish like a limb had been torn from him. Another burst proved to be so strong that it moved his boat. "We're perfect for each other!" he yelled as he was taken away, trying to fight against the airstream. "Our names even sound alike!"

All Lenalee did in response was wave and let out a long, heavy breath once he started up the boat and steered it back toward his home. His wet-sand-colored hair reflected the moonlight, and she concluded that she didn't really like fair hair that much.

Kanda's long, dark hair seemed to shimmer in the soft light, and she decided that she preferred dark hair then. After a moment, she realized she was staring.

Not only that, he was returning it. The breeze teased their loose clothes. She laughed gently, breaking them out of their mutual gaze.

"We're going into town tomorrow; would you like to come with us?" He frowned, and she understood why after a moment. "My parents and I are going. That's what I meant." When his eyes flicked to the water, over to where Leland was still motoring away, she grimaced. "Don't bother with him."

"When?" he finally asked.

"Oh, I suppose around noon; mother said something about getting lunch, I think. We haven't really made any plans." She paused. "We do know that we'll be gone all afternoon." At that instant she could have sworn he looked something near amused but it passed quickly.

Kanda nodded and Lenalee smiled at him in the cool, calm glow from the moon. She followed it with a yawn, and he did the same. She giggled softly and bid him good night. She took his hand and squeezed it after cradling it in hers. She left him after that, spinning and tiptoeing off the dock and into the house.

The book laid open on her bed, open now to the page with a striped carnation on it. She immediately thought of Leland when she saw it, feeling somewhat bad afterward; but only a little. She wondered how it got to this page because she was certain –

Through her open window glided a soft breath of air, flipping the pages. Ah, that was it. It stopped at the globe amaranth; her mind went to Kanda but she clapped the book shut. She went to close her window.

"You've had enough fun for one day," she told it as she slid it down. The wind whined outside, but she ignored the noise. She'd been bothered by it enough already; she honestly wished it would just give up or tell them what it wanted to say instead of constantly bugging them.

The whine became a laugh, and Lenalee left her window, a little unsettled.


	4. four

Standard disclaimers apply here.

Notes at the bottom.

* * *

It was a rare, cooler day in the middle of summer; or at least it was cooler in comparison to the incredibly hot days they'd been having. It had been almost unbearable, but that day was comfortably warm.

Lenalee had been outside with Kanda again when it started to rain. Every night for the past few weeks she would go out on the dock, and without fail he would join her. Sometimes they (she) spoke; others they simply idled there. She enjoyed both; she thought he did as well.

On the abnormally temperate day, the clouds rolled in and suddenly poured rain down on them. Sheets and sheets of it fell from the sky, and the wind was still for once.

She could have taken the few extra steps needed to get into the house. When he grabbed the door to the littler house and motioned her in, she simply didn't. There were towels – soft and large – on the table in the small kitchen. She glanced at him and he didn't seem to know; immediately she suspected her mother had brought them. It didn't really matter, because they certainly needed them. They silently dried their hair, and Lenalee shed her shirt; she had a tank top on underneath. Kanda watched her but looked away when she turned to him.

"I remember playing in here," she told him, her voice gentle from the fond memories. It was stuffy but when they tried to open a window, the wind decided to tease them; it blew in rain and got the floor all wet. It laughed merrily but they shut it out. "When I was younger, I mean." As if that wasn't obvious, but she wanted to fill the silence for some reason.

He sat down at the kitchen table first; she took the chair perpendicular to his. Their hands were on the top of it, lying near one another. She flipped hers so her palms were up. Her right thumb brushed against his left pinky and he didn't take his hand away.

"You know, I don't think I know anything about you," she murmured. "All I can think of is the fact that your mother kicked you out in the spring." She gazed at him and he met it; he seemed to be considering his words and finally opened his mouth.

Pounding on the door made them both jump a little; they then pulled irritated expressions at being interrupted so rudely. A voice – a very familiar, irritating one at that – yelled from the other side.

"Please let me in! I was in my new boat, trying it out and –" Lenalee strode over and yanked the door open in the middle of his sentence. She figured that he came here because he'd seen her enter the little house. Certainly if he hadn't he would have run to the larger one. She knew that simply because two hated each other. Leland had never been civil toward Kanda, but the latter always ignored the former, which infuriated him even more. She told him to stop acting like that – Leland, of course – but he wouldn't.

Lenalee had known him for almost three weeks, but it felt like three years. That was because he followed her around like a puppy and never left her alone; she couldn't get away from him no matter what she did. He actually thought they were about to be engaged. She wondered how someone could be so dense.

However, he _had _asked her to marry him the previous day. She'd stared at him for the longest time before saying only, "What?" She had been absolutely stunned by it; she'd never thought he'd do it. Because, after all, he seemed to believe they already were going to get married and she expected he assumed he wouldn't need to.

His mother called him away after she'd spoken in disbelief, and he said he'd let her think about it. He'd practically skipped off, as though she'd already accepted it or something like that.

"Ah, Lenalee darling, what a surprise to see _you_ here!" he cried, stepping inside. He was absolutely soaked, and his wet-sand-colored hair looked even more like slimy, saturated sand.

"Why is that?" she inquired. She wasn't creeping around in another of the homes on the shore. She was just in the little house behind hers.

"Well, uh, that is because, um, you…" He couldn't seem to find a good reason so he changed the subject. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?"

"The proposal of course!" He stiffened and glared behind her. She knew he'd realized that Kanda was there and sighed. The aforementioned male came to stand beside her.

"Leland, I –" She was going to try to let him down gently (she didn't know why exactly), but he interrupted her.

"Why is _he_ here?" He nearly spat out the words. He sized up Kanda, like he was judging whether or not he could take him in a fight. His rival, however, was taller and stronger than him and could easily kick him off the dock if he wanted. He never did despite having had many, many chances. She liked that about him, even though, in her opinion, seeing Leland getting kicked off a dock would not be the most tragic thing in the world. He knew how to swim.

"_He _lives here." Leland raised his eyebrows but she didn't let him respond. "No," she snapped, irritated with his behavior.

"No?" he repeated, confused and disbelieving at the same time. Kanda's hand came to rest on her bare shoulder but she shrugged it off; she was annoyed in general and his hand was too cold for her liking. Leland seemed to enjoy seeing that for all of two seconds; what she said to clarify made him not-so-happy.

"No, I don't want to marry you," she stated clearly. She almost felt bad as she watched his expression go from nearly gleeful to more devastated than she had ever seen anyone.

Then he burst into tears. It might have been hard to tell because his sodden hair was still dripping water down his face, but the sobs confirmed it. Lenalee didn't know what to do. He cried as hard as a child that scraped its knee while playing.

"I-I th-th-thought th-that y-you l-l-loved m-me," he managed to get out. What could she say? 'I don't'? He was already crying so hard he could barely breathe.

She sighed. "Let's go inside." They'd have to call his mother and have her bring him home. She glanced at Kanda. "Do you want to come with us?" she asked. He didn't give a definite answer or even a movement of his head; he simply went into another room without a word.

When he didn't return for quite a few minutes, Lenalee simply guided Leland to the door – only a few steps, but he was still upset. They ran for her house just as Kanda emerged from his room, a large jacket in hand – presumably for her.

He stopped, listening for their voices to determine if they'd gone somewhere else in the house, but he couldn't hear anything. She'd shrugged off the hand he'd put on her shoulder, and now...this. He'd been cradling the jacket until then; his arms lowered and it hit the floor. The wind wept for him and he wanted to shut it up, but yelling at it would do no good.

Inside the house, Leland and Lenalee were toweling off. Her mother seemed worried; she walked over to her daughter.

"Where's Kanda?" she asked. Leland was irritated that he wasn't being fawned over. Lan wasn't ignoring him, but she wasn't acting like he was a wounded lamb either.

"He's in the little house," Lenalee informed her with another sigh. "I think he's mad at me."

"Why do you think that?" her mother inquired, more concerned now.

"I-I can't say," she muttered. She found Leland glaring at her for some reason and returned it without flinching; it was he who backed down. He spun and sobbed again, and she thought of how pitiful he was.

"Later, then?" Lan clearly wanted to know, and wasn't going to let it go. Lenalee gazed at her mother, who was frowning slightly.

"Yes, later," she promised.

Someone pounded on the front door, reminiscent of Leland's knocking. They had the gall to open the door before anyone even answered it, the person entering the house without welcome.

"Leland! Oh, my poor, wounded lamb!" Mallory ran into the house, dropping her umbrella as she did so.

"Oh, the carpet!" Lan said in response, grabbing the umbrella and moving to shake it off. When she came back in she gave Lenalee a secret smile, but the girl didn't return it. Her mother's smile disappeared and she turned her attention to their guests. "Mallory darling, you've tracked mud into the house."

"Who cares!" Mallory cried in anguish. "My Leland. Oh, my poor, rejected Leland." She petted his hair but he pulled away. "What's the matter, little love?"

"I-I haven't been rejected!" he told her, still not wanting to give up.

"I recall Lenalee telling me that she said no," Lan interjected, her voice soft yet firm. Leland made a strangled noise and buried his face in his mother's chest.

"Add insult to injury, why don't you!" Mallory nearly yelled, now crying with her son. Quite a pair, they were.

"I wasn't trying to do that, dear; the fact of the matter is -"

"I want to go _home_!" Leland announced, dragging himself up and away. He was at the door before anyone could say anything, and Lenalee thought her puppy analogy was perfect. He looked like a dog that wanted to be let out.

After their lovely company had left with more pomp than either hostess had ever witnessed, Lenalee explained what had happened. It wasn't much of a story, really, but Lan nodded gravely. She appeared to be thinking about it when the rain stopped. Quick as a wink, just as it started, it ended. The clouds still hung low in the sky, threatening, but she took her chances. Her mother pushed her to do it as well.

The light in the kitchen was on when she hopped over puddles in the yard. She hoped the heavy rain hadn't affected the flowers negatively. It wasn't too important, however. Summer would be over soon and they would be leaving.

She knocked on the door; Kanda didn't answer it right away. When he did, she found him with damp hair and no shirt. There was almost a physical pull but she resisted. Still, the tension was palpable and she didn't say anything for a few moments.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, "about -"

Lenalee couldn't finish her sentence but she felt he understood despite her not saying anything about it. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer, not yanking but rather suggesting that she do it. Surprised despite that, she stumbled and nearly fell; she ended up pressed against him. She pulled back slightly to gaze up at him; his free hand slid under her chin and –

"Lenalee!" her father called. "I need you to –"

Her mother's voice snapped from the background, "Feng, leave it! She can do it later." There was more noise behind them as the two spoke heatedly for a moment. Then he understood and silence reigned.

Nevertheless, the moment was ruined, and they couldn't seem to pick up where they left off. Kanda stepped back and Lenalee stayed where she was.

"Is my shirt…?" She broke the silence with that, and he fetched it for her. "Thank you." She bid him good night after that and turned to go into the house. She wished she had said more but couldn't figure out why, so she didn't go back.

That night she slept fitfully and awoke with a start. It was almost five a.m. and the sun was already slowly making its way over the horizon. Lenalee was so unsettled that she went downstairs to get a glass of water.

Why would he have given her a cyclamen? She knew very well what it meant now. She didn't like the thought of it at all.

Lan was sitting at the table, staring out the window. Lenalee was surprised but her mother seemed to expect her.

"Why are you up so early, dear?" she asked softly. She was still considering something that her daughter couldn't see, though she was standing next to her, looking out the same window.

"I had a bad dream," she explained, leaving her mother's side. She got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. Lan watched her do this, waiting for the moment when the fragile cup was firmly planted on the counter.

"Kanda is gone," she told her gently. Lenalee didn't think she heard her right.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I caught that," she responded, hoping she had misheard her mother.

"Darling, of course you did. But I'll repeat myself anyway: Kanda is gone." Lenalee had her hand on the glass at that moment but let it go. Her grip was too shaky. Why was she reacting so strongly? She couldn't figure it out.

"Where?"

"He didn't say."

"You saw him and didn't try to stop him?" She wasn't hysterical. She was so shocked that she couldn't help raising her voice. Her mother gazed at her calmly before speaking.

"I couldn't, love." Lan stood and walked over to Lenalee, brushing her hair out of her daughter's face. "You didn't hear it, but the phone rang at two thirty this morning. How they knew...he said he had to go after hanging up. I don't know who it was or why he went, but if it was that important, I simply couldn't tell him to stay."

Lenalee turned and walked out the door; her mother didn't call her back. The little house was empty; he'd cleaned it out quite thoroughly. Yes, he was very much gone. As she started to leave, she noticed a long coat on the floor. It was lying there, slightly crumpled, and she wondered if he dropped it.

Smoothly, she picked it up, put it on, and walked out onto the dock. The breeze carried out the sound of the old grandfather clock chiming. Five a.m.

A light flashed on and off, on and off like it was signaling her, but she had no idea who was across the lake. The wind wept for her now, and she sighed and accepted it.

All she could think about was that flower he gave her in her dream. It probably (hopefully) didn't mean they'd never...She wondered if they were something other than images created in her head while she slept. Because, after all, Lenalee had woken up to find Kanda gone, and in her dream...

A cyclamen. Resignation...and goodbye.

* * *

Notes: Lol, should be studying for my final. Bad student, bad. Anydangway, I said I'm making this up as I go along but I actually planned to do this in some way. I could easily end it here but I won't. I have to figure out what to do next, though, haha. I took the light-from-across-the-lake from _The Great Gatsby_ of course, but it's not really meant to be symbolic. It's there because I just read the book. Thanks again for the reviews~.


	5. five

Standard disclaimers apply here.

Notes at the bottom again.

* * *

Kanda didn't come back. Lenalee chose to not spend all of her time watching for him, though. She wasn't the type to act like a lovesick fool, staring out the window and hoping her lo-he would return.

Still, that didn't mean that she wasn't unhappy about it. She was quite upset at first, but then simply accepted it. There wasn't much she could do about it anyway; she knew where he was from but that didn't mean that he went back there. She also didn't know whether Kanda was his first name or surname. The latter made more sense, but she couldn't be sure. Obsessively searching for him didn't seem like a good way to spend her remaining days there (and she had known him for all of three weeks, an amount of time that didn't seem to warrant something like that), so she just...left it alone.

Leland, for one, was positively gleeful when he heard Kanda was gone. The morning he left, in fact, the other boy came by with his boat and told her she could join him – the great Leland – now that she didn't have the stupid gardener to distract her.

At the moment she was simultaneously tired, distressed to a certain extent, and downright irritated with that idiot. It was a poor choice on his part to come on the dock with her as well. So she slapped him, hard; it probably wasn't fair to take out her frustration on him, but he wasn't really an undeserving party, especially after that comment. It wasn't enough to knock him into the water, but he was so surprised she'd done it that he staggered back a few steps and fell into it on his own.

He thrashed around for some time before Lenalee snapped that she knew he could swim. He then dogpaddled over to the shore and told her he needed mouth-to-mouth. She went inside and locked the door. He pounded on it, saying he needed a towel but she ignored it. Lan came downstairs in the middle of all of this.

"What's going on here, dear?" She saw the boy behind the door but didn't make any move to let him in. He whined, reminding Lenalee of a dog again. She idly wondered if his family had puppies at some point while he was growing up, one where he had taken to imitating them and never stopped.

"Nothing important. He fell in the water." Her mother seemed to read between the lines and shook a finger at her; her eyes were bright as usual, though she looked concerned. Lenalee knew it wasn't for the person outside, but neither said anything about it. All her mother did was walk away, saying something about laundry.

The rest of the summer was quiet; Leland left her alone after that. She never knew why but didn't really care. Maybe he finally took the hint, but she didn't think so. That would be expecting too much of him.

At home they were greeted by her brother and his wife – there to surprise them and spend time together before she left. Lenalee almost asked, "Leave for what?" before she remembered that she'd be going to college in a few weeks. She couldn't figure out how she had forgotten about it.

They stayed for the week between her coming home and going away, Komui and Bridget. Her sister-in-law was very business-like and at times Lenalee wasn't entirely sure how the two went together. They'd been married for a year by then, however, and they didn't appear to be having any problems thus far. Her brother seemed quite content, at least.

She'd been staring out the window the day before she left, contemplating the trees waving in the wind. Bridget sat next to her, causing her to jump. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard the woman approaching. "You should be packing," she pointed out, always focused on what needed to be done.

Lenalee glanced over at her. "I've already finished." She received a nod in approval in response; then the woman leaned closer, intently studying the younger girl. She was so close that, had Lenalee not known that her sister-in-law had brown eyes, she would have been aware of it at that moment. She turned away, feeling like Bridget was reading her mind. A softer expression made its way onto her face, and her next words were surprising, to say the least.

"Summer love?" She didn't whip around; all she did was bring her eyes back over to meet the other's gaze again. Neither spoke for a long time.

"No." Bridget raised her eyebrows, indicating that she didn't believe that. "Nothing like that happened." Her brows lowered and she nodded, understanding. "I just remembered something," she muttered, excusing herself.

"All right," her sister-in-law responded, standing with her but not following Lenalee. "Komui." A noise came from just beyond the doorway when she firmly said his name.

Her brother slunk in, clearly unhappy about being caught in the act; as he reached her he made a face at Bridget. Lenalee expected it would make the woman bark something at him - it was one of his almost miserable I-didn't-do-anything-wrong looks - but instead she stopped frowning and nearly smiled. He was so slouched over that she didn't have to reach up to push back the hair that fell on his forehead - a fond gesture, but she didn't follow it with anything (like perhaps a kiss there, as Lenalee might have anticipated). It was times like this that she understood how they worked. Sort of.

"Don't eavesdrop. It's rude," Bridget stated, but her tone wasn't as hard as it could have been.

"I won't," Komui promised, and turned to Lenalee, straightening up. His expression changed, turning almost grave. "Did he -"

"_No_." Lenalee wanted to leave the subject alone, so she interrupted her brother before he could even ask his question. She left the room before another word could be uttered.

Later she went back and talked with him more - about other things, of course. She skirted the topic (not that there was really anything to say about it) and he gave up on it after trying again (and again and again). She hugged him for a long time that night; it had been so long since she'd seen Komui, because he and Bridget had moved away after they married. They visited, but not as often as anyone liked; it couldn't be helped, due to their jobs.

She left the next day on a plane; now she would be the one far off. Her parents flew with her because it was her first time away from home, but her brother and sister-in-law returned to theirs as soon as she and their parents were gone. She settled in quickly and was now almost halfway through her first semester.

The bright red, orange, and yellow leaves on the trees were indeed eye-catching, Lenalee mused. The cooler wind there was not as pleasant as the sight of the changing foliage, however. It teased her hair, acting as though it was unaware of her dislike.

Her hair; she had gotten it cut into a bob the week before class started. She had been on campus at the time; it was a decision made on the spur of a moment. She didn't regret it, but it took a little time to get used to (she wasn't sure how her parents and brother – especially brother – would react, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it).

She ascended the stairs in her dorm because the elevator never worked right and went into her dorm room without knocking; it was, after all, her space. She hadn't quite gotten used to sharing it with another person.

The shriek made Lenalee jump and almost echo it. "Shut the door!" cried her roommate. She was in the middle of changing, but who would have expected that? It was three in the afternoon.

"Sorry," she apologized, hurriedly closing the door. Emilia, aforementioned roommate, heaved a sigh and dropped the shirt she was holding up to cover herself. She turned away to continue her quest to find something else to wear.

"It's fine," she told Lenalee, digging through her clothes. Her voice implied that it wasn't really "fine," but she knew that if she was in her roommate's position, she'd probably react something like that. She let it go and stepped farther into the room.

Lenalee sat on her bed as Emilia selected a dress. She turned it this way and that, trying to make up her mind. With another sigh she pulled out the ironing board.

"How was your day?" Lenalee asked, pulling her books out and putting them in order of what she needed to do first - on Sunday. It was Friday; she had plenty of time to take care of her assignments later.

"Fine." It was her usual response. "Oh," Emilia said, flipping her dress after setting the iron down. It tipped over while she smoothed the fabric out and landed hot side down on the board. She made an irritated noise and picked it up, holding it in her hand. "One of your boyfriends came by."

Lenalee glanced up at her. "Really?" She didn't acknowledge the fact that her roommate seemed to think she had more than one, watching her inexpertly draw the iron over the wrinkles that persisted.

"Yeah. I can't think of his name, though..." She lifted up the frock, ignoring the unbalanced appliance - which toppled over like it did before - and found it was still somewhat wrinkled. "He had brown hair and gray eyes." She remembered features better than names at times.

"Allen."

"Who?" She actually looked up from her examining but saw that she should probably pick up the iron, which was face down on the ironing board again.

"_Allen_. That's his name."

"I see." She effectively dismissed Lenalee's comment, not very interested in her roommate's personal life and gave up on her ironing, yanking the plug out of the wall. Emilia donned the dress, tugging her hair out of the collar when it held fast there.

The wind tapped against the window, wanting to be let in. They ignored it because it was too cold. Beyond that, the window didn't open easily; they weren't about to strain to let in a brisk breeze like that into their already not-warm-enough room.

"What did he want?" Lenalee finally inquired. She set her books on the floor, off to the side so she wouldn't step on them as she got up in the morning.

"He didn't say. I think he was just looking for you." Emilia drew a comb through her curls. "How does my hair look?"

"It's fine," Lenalee assured her, not realizing she had begun to mimic her roommate; she used the word before, of course, but had been saying it a lot more lately without noticing. What she wanted to tell her was to go away at this point; she felt like taking a nap. She yawned but didn't acknowledge when Emilia echoed it.

Her dreams were getting to her recently. She'd taken to writing them in a diary because it helped a little, and she didn't feel like she could tell anyone about them. Honestly, she didn't want to, either. It was never anything bad, but...well, she didn't want to share that little fragment of her life yet. Nevertheless, she wasn't sure anyone would be able to make heads or tails of her saying that she'd been giving him jonquils and receiving blue violets. She knew that flower book almost by heart, but she didn't think anyone else would know what she was talking about.

However, as she reclined on the bed, Lenalee wondered what Allen had wanted. She'd met him in one of her required classes and they'd hit it off immediately. She enjoyed his company, even if she thought that he felt differently. She didn't want to upset things by saying something, though, so she left it hanging in the background.

She decided to get up and go see why he stopped by; she put one of the books from class into her smaller bag and left before Emilia had finished getting ready. She never found out where the other was going that night, but it was probably to another party (or get-together, as she called them).

Lenalee headed toward the library, since she and Allen met there often and she assumed that he would be there for some reason. She noticed how dark the sky was but didn't feel like walking back up to her room to grab her umbrella. This wouldn't take too long, anyway. He most likely had a question about the homework.

She found him in the back corner, near a flickering light.

"How can you stand that?" she asked as she set her bag down. He didn't have any books for their class out; he was reading something else, but she couldn't see what.

He smiled at her. "It hasn't been bothering me." She gave him a look of disbelief; he didn't offer anything else. He marked his place and shut the book.

"So, what is it?" She sat down across from him, leaning on her forearms and meeting his gaze.

"Nothing, really." Allen set the novel down; the light danced behind him. It cast odd, quick little shadows in the background.

"Nothing?" she repeated. The dying light was going to give her a headache. She was about to say it when he spoke again.

"Yeah. I just wanted to see you." Lenalee watched him for a few moments. He studied her, waiting for her to respond. She'd had a vague (well, more than that) idea that he had feelings for her, but sort of pushed it away. She didn't want things to change because she'd inevitably...

"Ah. I see." There was a newspaper from yesterday on the table. She flipped it open, not sure what to say. None of Leland's obnoxious forcefulness was present here, and she certainly didn't think of Allen like him. Even so...

"Lenalee?"

"Hmm?"

There was a flash of lightning so bright that it almost hurt her eyes. She tensed, waiting for the large clap of thunder that would inevitably follow.

"Afraid of storms?" Allen asked her, distracting her for a moment. Then it came: it was so loud it almost felt like the ground shook.

"No," Lenalee returned a bit tersely. It shouldn't have bothered her but it implied she had some silly childlike fear, which did bug her. "I just knew that the thunder would be loud."

"Oh." He put his book away. She shoved the newspaper in her bag, uncertain why; she felt like she needed to. "We should probably go before it starts raining."

"Yeah," she agreed, thinking back to that day. . . . She stood up. "Let's go."

It started to pour when they were halfway between their dorms – his was near hers – and the library. They had to run and found shelter near a locked building; they had cover there as the doors to it were underneath a brick ceiling. They couldn't go inside, however. It was Friday afternoon and late in the day; they were generally closed up by then.

They looked down at themselves and then at each other. They were both soaked despite how fast they'd run. They started to laugh, because the situation seemed to call for it; they also found it funny, somehow.

When Lenalee stopped she noticed Allen was much closer. She didn't say anything. He stepped toward her. She stayed silent. He was right next to her. It was the hand under her chin that brought her back to her senses.

"I can't!" she blurted out. He moved back, surprised.

"You can't?" he repeated, confused. "Why?"

"I'm in love with someone else!" He stared at her and she couldn't believe she'd said it. She'd been trying to ignore it for the longest time, but now it came out. Turning slightly, she faced the sheets of rain instead. "It doesn't matter; he's gone and I don't know where he went."

He advanced on her again and she felt the same feelings for Leland spring up until Allen grabbed her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly; understandingly. He couldn't seem to find anything to say, so he simply backed away and leaned against a door.

"You think the exam is going to be hard?" he inquired idly, smoothly changing the subject and watching the rain fall.

"Maybe," she replied with a sigh. "It's hard to say. I asked around but no one I know has had him before." She set her bag down and opened it. She wasn't trying to do it to end their conversation. She just felt like she should.

She pulled the newspaper out of her bag; something seemed to be urging her to. The wind glided away; it had been whispering in her ear, though she had been ignoring it. It was satisfied that it had done its job now, even if she wasn't acknowledging it.

As she got it out, a section fell and landed on the ground. Lenalee knelt down to pick it up; it was the obituaries. The first thing she noticed was the fact that this wasn't a local paper; it was from –

But the second thing commanded her attention more: in the middle of the page, there was a short section without a picture or anything with it. It wasn't descriptive. It only stated, "...passed away on Tuesday from an illness."

None of this was what bothered Lenalee, of course. The name was the problem. The first she wasn't sure of, but the surname she knew well.

Kanda.

* * *

Notes: Oh yes I did just leave it there. A few things will be explained in the next part, but I won't say what yet. I was originally going to use characters I made (le gasp) but then I decided not to because there are plenty of minor characters to choose from. It's fun. Ugh, I'm not sure I'm keeping anyone in character anymore though (I don't subscribe to the blushing-stammering school of thought, however). I'm unsure about a bunch of spots, but that tends to happen after ten+ read-throughs, so it's going up before I fuss with it more. Class has ended now so I'll be able to write more. Woohoo. As usual, thanks for the reviews~.


	6. six

Standard disclaimers apply here.

Notes = bottom.

* * *

Almost year had passed and it was summer again; the petals from a dozen flowers fell in Lenalee's mind: the passage of time. They were at the house on the lake, but Kanda wasn't. Her mother didn't say anything about him, but she never asked. Maybe she should have, but the answers she might receive would most likely be not the ones she wanted. That was probably because of the obituary that still hung in her mind. She never knew what to make of it; she preferred to think he was alive, of course. Still, she wasn't sure she'd ever see him again. There were times, however, when she felt wrong about that; that somewhere, someday...but so far it hadn't happened.

It had been cool for the few weeks they'd been there, though it was already June. It was still somewhat early, but it didn't appear that the flowers would fare well that year. They hadn't had a very good start, after all. The weather hadn't agreed with them, so there were only a few tulips, a handful of chrysanthemums, an even number of carnations – the red and white had produced the same amount of blooms – and less forget-me-nots than everything else.

Nevertheless, the roses had gracefully grown to their full potential; that, she couldn't figure out. Lan said they were persistent; there wasn't anything more to it. Lenalee thought differently, but she wasn't sure what it might mean. She probably didn't need to be outside at nearly midnight, examining the bush to find that significance, but she hadn't had time to look at them until then. She couldn't sleep, and felt like something was pulling her to it.

Every blossom was fully open at that point, proud and defiant among the rest of the apparently weak-willed flowers. Almost all were normal – thorns and all – save one; it still had thorns, but they were so small as to be almost unnoticeable. She knew of the significance of that, of a thornless rose; she touched it but drew her hand back quickly. She didn't think she should.

Instead of going back into the house, she hopped over to the dock. Somewhere, a clock struck midnight; the wind brought her the sound of the chimes. She sighed after counting them, and it ruffled the coat she was wearing; Kanda's coat. It wasn't cold enough for it, really, but her nightgown was so short and the breeze was too unpredictable. Better to have something heavier on over it than to have it fly up at any point. There probably wouldn't be anyone would be out this late to see the show, so to speak, but she felt compelled to put it on anyway.

The light across the lake flashed on and off, on and off. She was reminded of Allen – for some reason, whenever she would meet him outside of class, there would be a flickering light nearby. It never bothered him, apparently, but that was probably because he was always under them and got used to it. At that, that was the conclusion she came to after awhile.

They'd started going out at the beginning of second semester. He'd asked her to go somewhere with him, and it ended with her kissing his cheek. The next night they went out again, and they kissed after the pause that followed the usual exchanges of "good night." They lapsed into a relationship after that which lasted for a few months; she broke it off a few weeks before final exams, though. She cared for him greatly and enjoyed being with him...but it didn't feel right.

Onoffonoffon_off_. The light was gone and she was alone with the wind and sound of water. She gazed out over the lake expectantly, and then crossed her arms. The breeze told her to be patient, so she waited.

The lapping waves against the shore and gentle gusts of air lulled her into a sleepy state after awhile, but steps behind her roused her from a near doze. Fully awake, she stared out into the darkness and held her breath, listening to the footsteps.

They weren't her mother's, nor her father's, nor Komui's or Bridget's (who were there for a month with them). She knew immediately who it was, but didn't dare turn to break the spell; she had to wait until he was next to her.

Kanda arrived, stopping at her right. Lenalee paused, then looked over at him. She said nothing. He said nothing. They were silent for a long time. She let out her breath, and he took in one.

"That was my father's coat," he remarked, breaking the quiet after his inhale. She lifted her arms, palms up, to examine it. The fabric covering her did look a little worn but was still comfortable and warm.

"I found it in the little house when you left," she told him unnecessarily. Her arms fell to her sides again; her hands disappeared beneath the long sleeves.

He stared out at the water for a long time. "I didn't mean to leave it."

She was surprised by the statement, andd moved to take it off but he shook his head. She gazed up at him. "Let's go inside," she suggested. He nodded, though they didn't move right away. The wind swished between them; a particularly harsh burst causing her to stumble - right into him. He caught her, and they stayed in that position for a moment.

They stepped off the dock together and walked toward the little house. There was nothing in it - no food at all - and it seemed a fuse had been blown; the lights wouldn't turn on.

Lenalee motioned that he go inside anyway, so Kanda did. Quickly and quietly she made coffee and grabbed the little pastries the cook made earlier that day. She put a candle, along with matches, on the tray; the same that carried the water she brought for Kanda the first day he was there. She paused, remembering it, before continuing back out.

Lightly she stepped as she took it out to the house. She didn't notice the absence of the odd rose. Of course, she wasn't looking at the bush, which was waving at her; she didn't pay any attention to it, however.

She entered the house, but he wasn't immediately visible. She supposed he went into the bedroom because the bathroom door was open, and went into the kitchen. She lit the candle, the low light of its flame bouncing off the walls; shadows formed and fell. She set the cups on the table, and the plate -

Slipped. All of the pastries scattered and some crumbled; the dish itself shattered. She moved to pick up the larger pieces, depositing them into a pile near the wall. She recalled that there was a broom in the back closet, and was about to stand when a hand grabbed her arm and dragged her up.

"Leave it," Kanda said, surveying the damage. Lenalee wasn't wearing shoes; she rarely did in the summer unless going somewhere.

"All right," she acquiesced with a sigh. She wanted to clean it up, but didn't want to argue. Instead, she took the chance to study him in the candlelight. Of course he hadn't changed, but she hadn't seen him in so long that she almost forgot what he looked like.

"Kanda," she blurted out; "what's your name?" He'd been considering the broken plate, but now he glanced at her. They held each other's gazes as he paused.

He didn't respond for a long time. "Yuu," he finally revealed. She nodded, saying no more.

Kanda looked at her, and Lenalee looked at him. She waited for her father to suddenly come in and ask her to do something unimportant; or that idiot Leland to barrel in sobbing for some reason or another. Nothing like that happened. It was completely calm around them.

His hand was still on her arm, and his grip tightened when her hand reached up and pressed to his cheek. A gust of wind somehow sneaked through the cracked window and blew the candle out just as their lips met. It laughed a little before withdrawing through the gaps it used to crawl in.

The bed in the little house had been made at some point, but she didn't know who had done it. It didn't really matter; the chill in the night air was seeping into the room and thankfully there were blankets there already. The moon pushed through the clouds finally and shone through the glass, its glow cold and indifferent but unwavering.

Lenalee watched as Kanda picked the coat up, smoothed it out, and hung it up in the closet. The almost reverence with which he did this spoke volumes, and she wasn't smiling when he came back to the bed.

"It was your father, wasn't it?" Her expression was serious, but his didn't change as he slid underneath the covers with her.

When he was closer to her, he finally murmured, "Yes."

She looked at him and was about to speak but he kissed her instead. She accepted it without protest and curled against him when they parted. She felt comfortable there; it felt...right.

"Yuu," she said softly when both of them were almost asleep; "when is your birthday?"

He didn't respond for such a long time that she thought he'd dozed off. Finally, "Why?"

"I just want to know."

A sigh; she didn't understand why the question would cause that reaction. "June sixth."

Lenalee pulled back to gaze up at him. "That's today." The look Kanda gave her said _I know_. Her mouth curved into a smile anyway. "We'll have to celebrate," she decided. "Mother will know exactly what to do, I'm sure." She hesitated, if only for a second. "My brother and sister-in-law are here right now. They're...quite the pair." She didn't mention her brother's overprotective tendencies because it wasn't important at that moment.

A clock struck two, the wind bringing the chimes to admonish them for being up so late. Still, it seemed to rouse him because he left the bed again; he excited the room as well. When he returned he had the nearly thornless rose in hand. She sat up and he sat down. She took it from him and her smile widened. She laughed a little as well; here they were at two in the morning in the little house, both wide awake, and he was giving her a flower. She pulled him to her for one last kiss that night, and they lay down again.

Lenalee hoped that they'd wake up before someone - her brother especially - found them like this. But as they curled up, comfortable, warm, and together, with the rose on the table next to her, she couldn't be bothered to care too much.

The smug wind whispered by the windows, lulling them to sleep.

* * *

So I struggled a lot with this part because I couldn't decide what to do with it. I tried to write it four different times, and this is the final attempt...obviously. When I started writing this, I couldn't decide which way to go with it, because I could have easily given this a not-happy ending. I decided to go with this and end it here, because it feels like it would have dragged if I went on longer. Anyway, flowers.

Carnations - red = deep love and affection; white = pure love and good luck. Red chrysanthemums = fidelity, love. Red tulips = declaration of love. Forget-me-nots = true love. Honeysuckle = devoted affection, bonds of love. Lilacs = first emotions of love. Red roses are obvious, but a thornless rose = love at first sight. Sappy, I know. I said the flashing light didn't have significance but I decided it did. I'll leave that up to interpretation, though, just 'cause. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed~.


End file.
